One I Always Miss
by Dory's human replica
Summary: Leonardo is exhausted but not because of the Foot, the training or even his fights with Raph. He is being forced to look much deeper, finding things he didn't even know existed in the deepest parts of his soul.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: -** One I Always Miss.

**Summary: -** Leonardo is exhausted; completely and utterly. And nobody seems to be able to understand why. It's not the constant fighting with the Foot; it's not the rigorous training; it's not even the ceaseless arguments between him and Raphael. It's something that runs much deeper – something that's made him explore the depths of his soul and find things he never wanted to admit were there.

**Disclaimer: -** I don't own the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles – and, unfortunately for me, no amount of wishing upon stars is going to change that. I don't own Splinter, Casey, April, Shredder, The Foot or any other characters from the world of Kevin and Peter. Also, I don't own New York City or the sewers underneath it…or any of the rest of the World – and it would be very worrying if I did!

**Author's Note: -** I know, I know, I deserve to be chased with pitchforks! I promised that this story would be up over a week ago now, and it's only just gone up! However, it wasn't just me being lazy! My computer had to be carted off for nearly 2 weeks and totally wiped. Thankfully, all my school-work and writing was safe, otherwise this chapter wouldn't even exist right now! Lesson learned? Back everything up! Now, read and review…and enjoy!

**One I Always Miss**

'I need some sleep,

I can't go on like this.

I've tried counting sheep,

But there's one I always miss.

Everyone says I'm getting down too low,

Everyone says I just gotta let it go,

I just gotta let it go…'

The sewers of New York City; deserted, odorous, dank and gloomy tunnels that criss-cross and intertwine so many times over that it even the most capable and intrepid explorer would get lost, although quite why a capable and intrepid explorer would be exploring the sewers of New York City is a mystery to me. But this is merely an illustration of what can happen in a person's life if they do not keep track of where they have been, where they are and where they will be going in the future. The World is a dangerous place, especially for those who feel they are different from others, whatever the reason, and into that category fall the four mutant turtles and their father, who happens to be a giant rat, that live in a lair in the sewers of New York City.

However, this extraordinary family also extends to two close human friends, a male and a female. This unusual mixture of the species would lead you to believe that either their lives would be incredibly tedious or impetuously exciting; and if it were to be revealed that the four turtles and the rat were ninjas, you would probably think 'Superheroes' and class them as superhuman, invincible, out-of-this-world, surreal or all of the above. You would not think twice about their everyday lives and the problems they face when they are alone and outside of the realms of the physical world. After all, four mutant turtle brothers in their teens who just happen to be ninjas and have to fight for their lives on a regular basis couldn't possibly suffer the same problems of the mere mortals of the world above the sewers of New York City, could they?

Without a doubt…

"I know you're worried, Raph – shell, we're all worried about him, but what else can we do? I'm sure he'll sort it out by himself, if we just give him a bit of space." Donnie raised his voice so as to be heard above Raph's fuming.

"I'm telling ya, guys, he ain't right! He's been acting all funny for a while now and it's really starting to tick me off! If he don't snap out of it soon, then I'll---"

"You'll what, Raph?" a quiet voice from the doorway indicated their brother's arrival. Raph cast his eyes to the floor, unable to look at his brother directly.

"Bro, you gotta get some rest – you look dreadful," Mikey piped up from where he'd been raiding the fridge, getting sick of Raph's constant ranting about the state of Leo at the moment. But even he couldn't deny that Leo was looking awful; prominent dark circles ringed his eyes, which seemed to have dulled over the past few weeks, and he was pale, almost pasty-looking. Donnie just watched, sighing and shaking his head as Leo stepped into the room and made himself a cup of tea.

"Listen, guys, I'm fine, okay? I'm just a little tired, that's all…"

"A little! Leo, you look like death that's been killed five times over and warmed up six!"

"Thanks for that, Raph," Leo remarked dryly, practically ignoring his brother.

"Fine, you know what? You just carry on like this and you'll see that I'm right – get a grip, Leo!" Raph threw up his hands in exasperation and stormed out of the room. He could be heard stomping up the stairs and the remaining three turtles flinched, grimacing at each other, as the door to Raph's room was closed with enough force to make the walls of his room shake from the vibrations. Leo sighed and sat down at the table, massaging his temples,

"I can't win, can I?"

"Leo, if you'd just let Donnie…" Mikey trailed off, seeing the warning look Don shot at him, "Just try and relax, yeah?"

"I'll try, Mikey," Leo replied wearily, "but I can't promise anything…"

"He's falling apart, Sensei," Raph confided in their father and teacher, Master Splinter, having stormed out of the kitchen after yet another row with Leonardo over his current state of exhaustion.

"I am well aware of that," Splinter replied calmly, fixing his second-eldest son with a stern glare, "But it is not our place to interfere,"

"Not our place?" Raph goggled at his Master, "Sensei, we can't just stand and do nothing! One of these days he'll lead us into some sort of death trap without even realising it!"

"My son, do you doubt your brother's ability to lead? Or do you doubt his ability to cope with his own problems?" Splinter leaned forward and met the red-banded turtle's eyes, searching them for an answer, "Or are you about to admit that you care deeply about your brother and do not wish to see him slide any further?"

"The second one," Raph muttered defiantly, a sour look gracing his features.

"I thought as much," Splinter sat back, half-satisfied, "Although I must urge you to put more faith in your brother's strength of character – I am certain that, at least for the moment, that this is nothing too serious. I shall, however, speak with him if this madness continues – I do not know the reasoning behind it but I am certain that it will not be justified."

"You got that right, Master Splinter," Raph mumbled.

"Raphael, please do not trouble Leonardo any further – and do not try to obtain answers from him or any of the others, as I believe they know no more than you. Now, leave me to meditate," Splinter closed his eyes and, upon hearing his son leave the room, fell deep into meditative thought.

"No…don't…please…no!"

"Uh…Leo?" Raph edged into his brother's room, but Leo's eyes snapped open and he sat bolt upright as soon as Raph had taken one step into the room.

"Get out," he ordered his brother sharply, his eyes cold.

"You can't keep this under wraps forever, bro – sooner or later, your problems will out and there ain't nothing you can do about it."

"I said: Get. Out." Leo repeated, narrowing his eyes.

"Fine, I'll leave – but don't expect me to help when ya can't hack it any more – you wanna be stubborn then it's your call, but don't you dare to even **think** about getting my help in the future!" Raph fumed.

"I never wanted your help to begin with, hot-head!" Leo growled sharply, "I never asked for it, I never wanted it and I certainly never needed it!"

"Good, because I never wanted to give it – who, in their right mind, would want to be lumbered with listening to your moans every minute of the day!"

"Firstly, I do not moan every minute of the day!" Leo stood up and strode over to his brother, until their faces were inches apart, "Secondly, unless I'm very much mistaken, you came in here originally to check up on me! And thirdly, take a look in the mirror, Raphael, and look long and hard at yourself and just think about how much of an asshole you actually are!" he pushed his brother backwards out of the room and slammed the door in the red-banded turtle's face.

"Oh, yeah, Leonardo – that was real mature!" Raph yelled through the door, "Slamming a door – how original!"

"Just piss off, Raph, and leave me alone!" was the livid reply.

"Fine! I don't need you and your stinking morals! I don't need to be burdened with your petty troubles! I don't need your stupid lectures! And I don't need you!" Raph stormed down the stairs, unaware that his and Leo's screaming had woken up their other two brothers, who were watching from the doorways of their rooms, not wanting to intervene. The hot-headed turtle was headed straight for the lair door when a flash of green and blue landed in front of him.

"Oh no you don't, Raph," Leo's voice was dangerously smooth as he addressed his brother, "Every time you storm off like some toddler having a tantrum I get stuck with giving an explanation to everyone else, along with an apology for waking them all up. Well, guess what, Raph? This time you're going to do it."

"You think you can stop me leaving?" Raph sounded almost amused.

"Problem?" Leo arched an eye-ridge.

"Yeah – a damn big problem," Raph replied, "And it's stood right in front of me."


	2. Chapter 2

**The Other Half Of The Disclaimer: -** The song 'I Need Some Sleep' belongs to the Eels. I just borrowed their lyrics to open my story! There, that's that done!

**A/N: -** Firstly, thank-you to all of my reviewers – I really, really appreciate the reviews! Unfortunately, chapter two is shorter than I had wanted it to be, but if I continued it on any longer then it would run into another section that I wanted to keep to a chapter of its own. Enjoy!

The silence that followed this statement was that which teachers in crowded, stuffy classrooms are constantly trying to achieve – you could have heard a pin drop at that moment. Michelangelo and Donatello were holding their breath, eyes flitting back and forth between their two older brothers, wondering who would be first to break the deathly hush that had fallen over the room. Leo was giving Raph a withering glare that would have broken even the fiercest of warriors into submission – but it didn't break Raph. The red-banded turtle merely returned the gaze with raw fury bubbling up behind his forced calm and gritted teeth.

"What did you just say?" Leo asked slowly, calmly.

"Ya want me to repeat it? Ya didn't hear me the first time?" Raph scoffed, "Fine; I said I have a damn big problem and it's stood right in front of me – in case that still don't get past your thick skull, Leonardo, then let me elaborate further – the problem is you! So get out of my way,"

"No." Leo replied simply, folding his arms resolutely.

"Excuse me?" Raph growled.

"I said: no."

"I heard what ya said; I was just asking once more, politely, to move out of my way before things have to turn nasty."

"I think you misunderstand me, Raphael," Leo's eyes glittered dangerously, "You are not leaving the lair, so I suggest you either go back to your room or go to the dojo, tie a blue bandana round a punching bag and rip it to shreds," the blue-banded turtle regarded Raph coldly, keeping eye contact so that, to any outsider who couldn't hear what was being said, it may as well have been a staring contest instead of a verbal argument. _A verbal argument that's probably going to get physical any minute now, _Leo thought, bracing himself for what he liked to call a 'glorified sparring match'.

"You wanna turn this into something nasty?" Raph cracked his knuckles.

"If that's what it takes," Leo retorted voice low.

"Fine; then nasty is what you'll get, Leonardo," Raph leapt at his brother with such force that Leo skidded backwards and into the wall just to the left of the lair's entrance and exit. The blue-banded turtle ducked a punch from his brother and smirked to himself, quietly confident, as Raph's rage escalated until the red-clad turtle may as well have been pummelling thin air. He was so incensed that he didn't care whether he actually hit his target; he just wanted to hit something, anything that got in his way. Finally, after a clumsy kick from Leo, Raph managed to grab his brother's foot and flip him over and onto the floor with a resounding crunch. Stunned, Leo took a couple of seconds to recover his senses and by the time he was back on his feet there was no sign of Raphael anywhere in the lair.

"Shit," Leo cursed under-his-breath, "Dammit," he brushed himself off, "Dammit!" he got louder, throwing his arms up in the air and stomping over to the sofa, where he flopped down and began massaging his temples.

From the sidelines, the concerned creases on Donatello's forehead grew gradually deeper and his expression became more thoughtful with every passing move that one of his older brothers made. Mikey was silent beside him, no doubt thinking up some way to relieve tension after their brothers had finished their ridiculous fighting. Donnie's train of thought was shattered as Leo was thrown down; it was this that really got to him. Watching Raph scarper out of the lair, fuming, Donnie sighed heavily and rolled his eyes, _I guess it will be me playing peacekeeper…again,_ he thought wearily as his eyes switched to Leo. The older turtle was leaning back on the sofa, massaging his temples half-heartedly, eyes closed. His eyelids, Donnie noted, were not just closed in thought – he'd squeezed his eyes shut as if trying to block something out or keep something in. As the third-oldest turtle pondered this point, he heard Mikey shift beside him, getting restless and uncomfortable, not sure of what to say or, in fact, whether he should just not say anything at all.

"See ya later, I'm gonna go and…" he trailed off, realising no-one was listening to him, and shrugged, leaving the room and bounding up the stairs to his room. Don barely noticed his little brother leaving; he was so focussed on his older one. Snapping back to reality for the second time, he took a few cautious steps towards Leo, who didn't turn or open his eyes.

"You ok?" Donnie asked softly, _Stupid question, Donatello,_ he chided himself, while he waited for the bad-tempered answer he felt sure he was going to receive. He had to remind himself that Leo was not Raph and would simply ignore him if he didn't want to answer – that or he would answer in monosyllabic terms, in which case there was very little point in Donnie asking him what was wrong. And so Donnie ended up back where he started on his third train of thought in the past few minutes, realising that it was a stupid notion to ask his brother what was wrong when they'd been asking him for several days now and received the same answer each time; a frosty silence or hasty 'Nothing's wrong' or a hurried 'I'm fine'.

"It doesn't matter," Leo finally spoke; Donnie added it to the list of different responses he'd heard so far. This was definitely an improvement.

"So you admit there's something wrong?" the younger turtle decided to push it a little further to see just how much he could get out of his brother. Leo opened one eye, and regarded Donnie with a semi-amused glance,

"Are you ever gonna drop this?"

"Not until I get some answers out of you," Donnie replied, "We're all worried about you, bro---" he stopped himself from going any further, sensing that he had now pushed it a little too far. Sure enough, without another word, Leo stood up and scowled darkly, leaving the room without so much as a glance back at his brother, left bewildered in his wake, "Well, that went well," Donnie muttered to himself once he was alone.

In his room, Leo paced. He paced up. He paced down. He paced round the edge of the room. He spiralled into the middle. He wandered in pointless circles. He was confused, to say the least, and also getting ever-so-slightly dizzy from all the pacing he was doing. He knew Donnie and the others were only trying to help, but they had to realise that he didn't actually _need_ help – that was how they could help him – by accepting that nothing was wrong and leave Leo to his own devices…but this was his brothers, and he knew that what he hoped for was not likely to happen. The second he stopped acting like the Leo they were all used to, it would start: Mikey would try and make him laugh and smile constantly, barely giving him time to breath between each joke, the jokes themselves getting more and more tasteless the longer Mikey continued in this endeavour; Donnie would begin to psycho-analyse him, whether intentionally or not, and ask him constantly if he was alright and make guesses at what was bugging his older brother; Raph would begin his rant about how Leo was just looking for attention and should grow up and snap out of it – this would often lead to a fight between the two siblings, which almost always resulted in one of the two turtle brothers storming out of the lair or up to their rooms for several hours at a time. But one thought was on the minds of all of Leonardo's family, stopping them from taking any action: If it was that serious, he would tell them, right?

Wrong. Leo laughed softly to himself as he thought about how easily he was managing to string them all along into believing that it was something he could handle on his own. The truth was that he had tried to sort it on his own, and it just wasn't working. Every time he almost had it cracked, something else would come up and he would continue to think. And although Leonardo hated to admit it, this problem was beginning to affect his training and soon, no doubt, it would begin to drastically affect his leadership. They were caught up in too many battles for him to lose his nerve and his calm exterior…but it was slowly happening, and he knew it.

**A/N: -** You may notice that I have yet to reveal what is actually wrong with Leo…but, never fear, it will come soon enough. Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter – please read and review for me! I must warn you though, I am coming up to my GCSEs over the next few weeks so I am apologising in advance for what will probably end up being another long wait…but I will do my best.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: -** And here we are again; another chapter – the next section of the story. I don't know whether some of you have figured out what's up with Leo or not yet but this chapter should practically give it away! Anyone want to hazard a guess? Anyway, thank you so much for all my reviews so far and please review this chapter for me too! Also, I have now finished my GCSEs and am not at school again until September…this means more time to write, which, in turn, means quicker updates! So now the only thing left for me to say is: - Enjoy!

"Leonardo," a firm voice addressed him from the doorway, "Donatello tells me that he tried to talk to you."

"Yes, Sensei," Leo sighed in reply, his back turned on Master Splinter, rolling his eyes.

"And Raphael tells me that he is getting more and more worried about you as each day passes."

"And?" Leo almost laughed at the statement; _Raph was worried? Raph, compassion? Ha, that's a likely story. I bet he went to Splinter and just ranted about how pathetic and childish I am._

"Don't use that tone of voice with me, Leonardo," Splinter scolded his son.

"I didn't use a tone," Leo retorted pathetically.

"Do you wish for me add more flips to your training tomorrow?" Splinter turned to leave, a fatherly gleam in his eyes, "Especially as you are so…tired…" Splinter left the room and Leo whipped round, but not quickly enough as the door clicked shut before he even had the chance to open his mouth. Had Master Splinter got him figured out? Surely not. It just wasn't possible – he'd been covering it so well – but then he it had been showing in his training and his dip in morale. He let out a frustrated growl and flopped down onto his bed; the one item of furniture in his room with which he was uncomfortable. It eluded him, like a well-trained enemy, taunting and tempting him whenever it got the chance, with its soft pillows and warm covers, hoping that he might fall into its trap. It seemed to draw him towards it, calling his name in a whisper that only he could hear. As he gazed round his room, his desk almost seemed to laugh cruelly at him, his bedside table mocked him and the walls closed in around him, suffocating him. He could not stand to be there, in that room, the bedroom. Even the name of the room was teasing him. Snapping back to reality with a bump, he could no longer hear the comforting sounds of video games being played in the living room; nor could he hear the occasional chiding of Raphael by Master Splinter for his colourful language, the brunt of which was directed at Michelangelo. He couldn't have been asleep, could he? Only minutes ago had Master Splinter left the room, and Leo didn't feel any less exhausted. Slightly apprehensive, his mind wandered to previous thoughts and it struck him as highly unusual, if he really had been asleep, that he was having nightmares about his own room…normally, a teenager's room was a safe haven, their bed a place of rest in which they would try to spend as many hours of the day as possible. But not the turtles and Splinter. Not Leonardo and his brothers. Not Leonardo…

Opening his door, he noted how dark the lair was. It had been early evening when he'd confronted Raph, later when he'd spoken to Donnie, and even later still when Splinter had talked with him…so what time was it now? Slipping across to the stairs, he descended into the main body of the lair with only a few small creaks of the stairs beneath his feet. Feeling uneasy, Leo couldn't help but wonder if the lair had been attacked and he'd been drugged, hence the reason that all was dark and nobody seemed to be around. Hearing the soft padding of feet somewhere above him, Leo turned and glanced up.

"Morning," a mild voice greeted him. At the top of the staircase, illuminated by a dim light that seemed to be coming from nowhere, was Donatello.

"What time is it?" Leo automatically asked the question which had been plaguing him for the last few minutes.

"Three thirty-eight," Donnie replied, "A-m."

"You're not serious…?" Leo craned his neck and tried to see his brother's face in more detail to determine whether he was joking or not. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, his stomach turned over; Donnie was not smiling, nor was he smirking, or suppressing laughter, or looking in the slightest bit amused. He was frowning, and almost glaring, at his older brother. Retreating into his room and turning off the light, Donnie returned moments later and arrived downstairs with his brother.

"Kitchen. Now." He hissed, pushing his brother with considerable force into the kitchen, turning on the light with his other hand, and shoving him down into a chair. The older of the two couldn't help but be concerned by this uncharacteristic display as his little brother sat opposite him. Shifting under Donnie's accusing glare, Leo finally broke the silence that had fallen upon them.

"Are you gonna explain what you're doing up?" he asked carefully.

"Are you?"

"…No…"

"Well then, that's hardly fair, is it? That I should have to explain when you must owe me at least a dozen more explanations as to why you have been pacing around your room for hours at a time, every night, for the last three weeks and two days." Donnie smirked at his brother's look of incomprehension.

"I don't---" he began, evidently then thinking better of it, "You've been counting?"

"Well, I don't really see how I couldn't – you know I was working on those updates for the Shell Sub a few weeks ago?" he waited for an answer, something to show that his brother was paying attention.

"Yeah,"

"I was up, late, for several nights trying to get it right – something just wouldn't work, and it was bugging me, and I wanted to figure it out so I could get the Sub back into action as soon as possible. After all, you never know when we'll need it, and I was desperate for us to have a heat sensor and cellular identification tracking device," Donnie stopped abruptly, seeing his brother get lost as the scientist in him took over. Clearing his throat, he continued, "Anyway, as I came upstairs – at two o'clock in the morning – I saw the light shining under your door, and on listening I heard movement. The next night was exactly the same. And the next. And the one after that."

Leo could not meet his brother's gaze, his voice lost somewhere within. He struggled to keep his face expressionless as fear crawled up his spine – had his brother figured him out?

Donnie leaned forward, "How long has this been going on for, Leo? What are you up to? You wouldn't be pacing around like that unless it was really bugging you…"

No, he hadn't. Leo allowed himself to relax, thinking fast on the spot of another cover-up, a way to keep the embarrassing and pathetic truth from his brother's for a little longer.

"I was thinking," he spoke slowly. The purple-banded turtle frowned,

"Thinking? About what?"

"We've sort of ground to a halt in our training," he floundered for a few seconds before getting his grip on a convincing story, "It's been annoying me, because I don't think we're achieving anything and I want us to be ready for any new tricks that enemies might use, in case someone attacks us, you know?"

"You worry too much," Donnie sighed, "Well, from now on, can you thinking about it in the daytime. And how about asking Master Splinter for some new stuff to do, or see if Casey knows of any 'new tricks' that are around, considering he patrols the streets as some deranged vigilante four nights a week." He allowed himself to smile, also gaining a smirk from his brother.

"Yeah, maybe you're right."

"Hey, I'm the genius of the family, remember?"

"Leo, what the shell did you think you were doing? You could've got yourself killed!"

"What do you care? He wasn't even aiming at you!"

"I wish he was – at least I would have seen him!"

"I'm alive, aren't I?"

"Only 'cause Donnie had the sense to trip you with his Bo staff!"

"I would have moved!"

"You were looking in the other direction – you wouldn't have noticed until you were hit!"

"Get over it, Raph; you're just jealous you had to sit this one out!"

"That's enough! Both of you." Donnie cut in, halting the steadily rising voices of his brothers, "Leo, hold still and let me clean this up. Raph, I think you should leave now. Could you send Mikey in on your way out, I'd like to give him the once over, just to check that cut's clean."

"Whatever," Raph grunted, dragging himself to his feet and out of the room, still holding an icepack to a swollen lump on the back of his head, received from a sharp blow with a golf club which had promptly knocked him unconscious. It had been in a fight only twenty minutes ago, with a group of thugs, no doubt from the Purple Dragons. They had been conducting a complex bank robbery; Raph and his brothers had run into them while out on their training run and, after a few seconds of initial confusion, they found themselves in heated combat with the thugs, outnumbered by three-to-one. Raph had been knocked out early on, making the ratio four thugs to each remaining turtle, and Mikey had stood solidly over his brother's body, gaining a deep cut to his right thigh in the process. Donnie and Leo, meanwhile, had been fighting a little way off. Raph had come round just in time to see one of the men break away from fighting with Mikey and approach Leo and Donnie from behind, drawing out a gun and aiming it directly at Leonardo. Too far away and engaged in his own battle, Raph could do nothing except yell for Leo to watch out, but his brother didn't hear him. Donnie, however, was paying more attention and turned in time to see the man's finger begin to apply pressure to the trigger. Moving like lightning, Donnie had swung his staff round, connecting it with the back of Leo's knees as the gunman had fired. His older brother had let out a startled yelp as his legs buckled beneath him and he went crashing to the ground, the bullet whistling over the top of his head and into the man Leo had been fighting, sending him down with a strangled cry; he was dead before he'd hit the ground. Now, back at the lair, Donnie was cleaning up a nasty gash below his brother's left eye, obtained when he went down courtesy of Donnie's staff, having fallen face first, not flinging his hands out quick enough to save himself. Although he had to admit that it was better that being dead. By miles.

"I don't think I said thanks," Leo muttered, wincing as Don attacked his face with an antiseptic wipe.

"Forget about it," was the short reply.

"Uh, I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Mikey's cheerful voice lifted the mood considerably as the youngest turtle made a beeline for the chair Raph had occupied previously.

"No," Donnie answered briskly, taping a pad gently over the gash on his older brother's face, though he had not met Leo's eyes since they had been home, "You're done. Go and…" he was about to say 'get some rest' but knew he'd want to make a follow-up comment if he did, "…Just go."

"Thanks, Don," Leo smiled at his brother, sensing that he was not in Donnie's good books at the present time, and scarpered as quickly as he could, only to be met by Raph's scornful glare once he reached the living room. Sighing, he headed for the kitchen and took a seat at the table where he'd been sat with Donnie a few nights beforehand at some unearthly hour of the morning.

"And people say _I'm _the one with the attitude problem," a gruff voice snorted. Leo rolled his eyes.

"Bog off, Raphael," he used his brother's full name as he always did when he was trying to make a point.

"Don't get snappy with me, I'm just sayin'," Raph grinned smugly as he grabbed a can of soda from the fridge, "I'll see ya later, fearless," he snickered, knowing how much Leo detested the nickname. Smiling to himself as he left the kitchen, he basked in the suppressed anger that was positively radiating off of his elder brother.

"Backfist-strike, Upper-rising block, Counter-kick, Double Phoenix Punch – Leonardo, you are not concentrating – Left Hook, Uppercut, Roundhouse double jump-kick; and again! Leonardo, keep your elbow in line with the centre of your body – backfist-strike, upper-rising block – Leonardo, your arm should be higher – counter-kick, double phoenix punch, left hook – Leonardo, what is wrong with you today, uppercut, roundhouse, double jump-kick; again! Backfist-strike – LEONARDO! I said to do a backfist-strike – why are you not doing so? You are not up to your usual standard, my son. Is something bothering you?" Splinter inquired.

"No, Sensei,"

"Are you injured?"

"No, Sensei,"

"Are you unwell?"

"No, Sensei,"

"Are you tired?"

"No, Sensei,"

"Then all I can think of is that you are not concentrating out of pure teenage ignorance. Now, again! Backfist-strike, upper…" Splinter shut his eyes and sighed deeply, counting to ten in his head – _kids_ – he mused, "…Leonardo, may I suggest that you leave the room and return to speak to me after your brothers have finished training?" Splinter's voice was quiet but firm, commanding, and he ignored the hurt look on his wide-eyed eldest son's face, "I will send one of your brothers to fetch you when we are done here. I cannot afford for them to be distracted and have to put up with disjointed training on account of your puzzling and complete lack of focus. Do I make myself clear?" Splinter fixed his son with a withering stare but, on seeing Leo shrink back under his gaze, softened his expression, "You may go now."

"Yes, Sensei," Leo bowed clumsily, fighting off the angry tears that had been threatening to spill over throughout the entirety of the disastrous training session and were now blurring his vision. He could feel his brothers' eyes on him; Raph's smug and superior gaze drilling into him, Donnie's frown making him feel like some sort of test subject in a scientific experiment. The only comforting presence in the room was that of Mikey, his eyes a mixture of confusion, worry and pity, though such a look still made Leonardo feel inferior. Fleeing to his room, the blue-banded turtle balled his hands into fists, swinging his right fist round at the nearest wall, cringing on impact. Hissing in pain as he sat on the floor and leaned against the edge of his bed, he let his mind drift…

**A/N: -** This is the second version of this chapter as the first, for whatever reason, had doubled up on the last few paragraphs. So I owe all the reviewers a huge thank-you for pointing that out to me! sends all reviewers messages of thanks Anyway, see you in the next chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: -** This chapter should start giving away what's up with Leo. It's not as complicated as you might think or as severe as it could be but it is debilitating enough to make him harsher and affect his skills and performance as a leader and ninja. Figured it out yet? Read, review and enjoy! ((Not necessarily in that order – read, enjoy and review! There, that sounds better!))

"Hey, Leo," Raph grunted as Leo scuffed his feet on entry to the kitchen. The older of the two turtles barely acknowledged his brother's presence. Raph rolled his eyes in exasperation, at a loss for what to do to get through to his brother – other than pummel him into the farthest reaches of oblivion – without resorting to throwing him out of the lair and locking him out in the cold until he saw sense: and even by Raph's standards, that was a level to which it was unacceptable to stoop. He continued to follow his brother's movements with his eyes until Leonardo rounded on him, glowering,

"What?" he snapped harshly.

"Splinter wants to speak to ya, remember?" Raph reminded him through gritted teeth. Sighing, Leo somehow left the kitchen in a much worse mood than when he'd come in, though anyone who was not the blue-banded turtle would have deemed that impossible as, from the moment he'd stepped out of his room on hearing his brothers leave the dojo, thick, black smoke may as well have been pouring out of Leonardo's ears accompanied by the low growl received by any who dared to attempt interaction with the eldest of the four turtle brothers.

"I saw you, you know," a mild voice caused Leo to halt abruptly and whip round to face Donnie, who was leaning casually against the back of the sofa in the living room, presumably watching television. What he was, in fact, doing couldn't be further from sitting dumbstruck in front of an electronic box and listening to a series of sound waves of a certain frequency and amplitude travelling from the television's speakers to his ears, depicting the story of nuclear fission in an amount of detail that Leonardo had no hope of understanding, not even with the best will in the world.

"Saw me what?" he asked coolly, keeping his voice even.

"You were out cold,"

"When?" Leo was confused, although a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach told him that deep down he knew exactly what Donatello was referring to.

"Just now; about fifteen minutes ago, actually. In your room,"

"I was taking a nap," Leo retorted a little too quickly for his brother's liking.

"A nap? On the floor, your knuckles bruised and bleeding, leant against the side of your bed and twitching slightly?" Donnie counted each point off on one of his six fingers.

"What right is it of yours to come into my room anyway?" Leo narrowed his eyes, switching to defensive mode, determinedly holding his brother's gaze and standing still, almost statue-like, as he always did when his brothers found out something he'd rather they didn't know. His reaction was always flat-out denial and incredibly good acting, confession – however rare – or flat-out denial combined with incredibly bad acting. Recently, the latter had been given more of an airing than Leonardo would have wished, his immense desire to keep his personal secrets, problems and fears to himself overwhelming him and trying to take control, but the way he was going it was soon going to spiral out of hand and leave him in way over his head. And that is one place he did _not_ want to be.

"I was worried about you," Don's gentle voice sliced the atmosphere, "Is that so bad? Shell, Leo, you worry about all of us enough. Can't we return the favour once in a while?"

"No." Leo's voice was dull and his expression bland.

"Whatever," Don sighed, "You'd better go talk to Splinter – he's waiting in the dojo."

With a barely perceptible nod, Leo continued his exhausted and miserable shuffle to the dojo, feeling Don's scientific and medically trained eyes scrutinising him as he left.

"I apologise, Sensei, I was not focussed as I should have been – I understand that I can never be a true warrior if I cannot be focussed at all times, and I am ready to accept any punishment you deem suitable to fit my failures in training today," Leo's words tumbled out of his mouth in a raging torrent of embarrassment, laced with guilt for disrupting the training of his brothers. He bowed low as he spoke, causing half of his words to get lost as they drifted meaninglessly downwards and were swallowed by the ground.

"Sit down, Leonardo," Splinter's calm yet firm tone of voice warned Leo to abstain from any more apologies and excuses. The teenager nodded and sat opposite his Sensei. Father and son, Sensei and student, Master and warrior sat in silence for what seemed to Leonardo like an eternity.

"Master Splinter, I---"

"I did not call you in here to listen to you justify your somewhat…"

"…dismal?" Leo suggested dejectedly.

"…_disappointing_," Splinter squashed his son's suggestion for use of a better word, "yes, your disappointing performance in training today."

"I am sor---"

"No apologies are needed," Splinter spoke softly, holding up a hand to quench the endless stream of apologies determined to escape his son's conscience, "I have only one request,"

"Anything,"

"That you find out exactly what is affecting your performance as a ninja, your patience and your enthusiasm in such a way that it could be dangerous to both you and your brothers…and put a stop to it as soon as possible," Splinter glanced briefly at the door of the dojo, the movement unnoticed by Leonardo, and spied Donatello stood in the doorway, scratching his chin in deep thought, his eyes fixed on his brother, "Now, Leonardo, is that an unreasonable request?"

"No," Leo answered sullenly, his heart sinking – he had a rough idea of what was wrong with him – but it wasn't something he could do anything about right now. It wasn't as though he hadn't tried – shell, how he'd tried, but in the end nothing he seemed to do was ever enough.

"Then go, my son, and get some rest." Splinter motioned for Leo to go and the turtle bowed before leaving, not even sparing a glance for his brother outside the dojo, heading straight for the sofa in the living room and flopping down next to Mikey, who was contentedly watching cartoons. Once Leo was gone, Splinter turned his attentions to Donnie, who was edging into the room, "At the risk of sounding horribly cliché, my son, I can see the cogs in your brain working and there is a rather bright light-bulb shining above your head. What is it?"

"Sensei," Donnie started, a slow grin creeping onto his features, "I have an idea."

With Splinter's approval, the purple-banded turtle, third-oldest of the four brothers, was rifling through a small wooden cabinet in the corner of his lab, looking for one tiny bottle amongst more than thirty – thirty-eight, if Donnie was being precise – stacked up, knocked higgledy-piggledy by Donnie's excited and trembling hands. His fingers finally closing around a small, turquoise, translucent bottle, containing twenty-three beige tablets that gave off a rather nasty odour when the lid was removed; that would be his next dilemma – tricking his brother into taking them. Keeping his find firmly behind his back as he hurried to the kitchen, Donnie grabbed a bowl and a wooden spoon, mashing up two of the tablets into fine powder, boiling the kettle at the same time, the sound of bubbling water masking his antics considerably well. Mikey and Leo, also recently joined by Raph, didn't even look round from the television to see what was going on.

"Anyone want a drink? I just boiled the kettle!" he called to his brothers, noting that all three were in the same place – perfect – no-one would suspect what he was doing.

"My sons, I am going to bed – I suggest you think about doing the same within the next hour," Splinter emerged from the dojo, not casting a single glance in the direction of his sons, retreating to his room and sliding the door shut firmly behind him. Shrugging, Mikey returned to the matter at hand; answering Donatello's question,

"Nah, thanks, Donnie,"

"You sure? We have hot chocolate in – April brought some down for us last time she was here, remember?"

"Tempting," Mikey stuck his tongue out of the side of his mouth, pretending to think, his face eventually breaking into a grin, "Go on then, Don, seeing as you're making it,"

"Ok, great," Don nodded, "Raph? Leo?"

"Nothing for me, Donnie," Raph waved his brother's offer off with a grunt and a flick of his wrist, far too engrossed in keeping the controls out of Leo's line of sight so that his older brother couldn't see or reach them to change the channel from the wrestling that was currently filling the screen.

"Just tea, thanks," Leo replied through gritted teeth as he glared at Raph. Rolling his eyes, Donnie tuned back to the kettle and set about making the drinks. At least he wouldn't risk muddling the mugs up, as Leo and Mikey had wanted different things and he himself had gone for the same option as Mikey, just to be sure. Sprinkling the powdered tablets into Leo's mug, Donnie stirred it in until none was visible on the surface. Carrying the tray of drinks carefully into the living room, he set it down on the coffee table and passed the mugs around. Smiling gratefully at his brother, Leonardo immediately took a sip from his mug, not paying even the slightest shred of attention to how hot it was. Don's eyes were fixed unblinkingly on his older brother; and Raph noticed the odd behaviour.

Once all had drained the last drops from their mugs, Donnie stood up and stretched,

"All right, you heard Master Splinter – we'd better turn in," he turned, a smug grin plastered onto his face, and walked slowly up the stairs, congratulating himself inwardly as he did so. Raph, frowning, followed.

"What did you do?" he hissed into Don's ear on catching up with the purple-banded turtle.

"What had to be done," replied the other briskly.

"You are _so_ in for it when he finds out, Donnie-boy," Raph sniggered elbowing his brother lightly in the ribs, "For once, I won't be on the other end of his lectures!"

"Keep your voice down, Raph, he doesn't suspect anything."

"He ain't as dumb as he looks," Raph arched an eye ridge, adding softly, "although I know that's hard to believe,"

"Just go to bed, Raph," Don sighed. Raph obliged, turning his shell on his brother. Don opened his mouth to say something, hesitating for a moment but continuing none-the-less, "Raph,"

"Yeah?"

"Could you make sure he goes to his room in the next half an hour?"

"No problem, brainiac," Raph nodded, "Just so long as I don't gotta put up with any of his lectures in the morning!"

"You got it," Don grinned, jogging the rest of the way to his room and shutting the door behind him. He was in the middle of mentally congratulating himself on his success when he heard a high pitched scream from downstairs, _Mikey_, he cursed inwardly. He could hear Raph thundering down the stairs to see what was up and silently opened his door to peer out and listen to the conversation, not moving and hoping it was only Mikey worrying over nothing or, if anything, something relatively minor. He hoped for all his techno-brain was worth that nothing too serious had happened – but he didn't dare to follow Raph for fear of being there when the pills took effect on Leo. Something told him that his older brother would not be impressed.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: -** This chapter is the last chapter in which very little is given away…now we get to the solutions of all the questions that are unanswered and the truth will out and all the lies, no matter who has told them, will be unearthed. There may also be a few surprises in store plot-wise – things that you wouldn't expect that have contributed to how things have turned out. Read and Review – and I hope you like it!

"Calm down, bro," Raph was growling.

"Calm down! Raph, he won't wake up! Why won't he wake up?" Mikey's voice was high and panicked.

"It's ok, Mike, just listen to me,"

"Listen? Raph, why aren't you worried? Look,"

"Stop shaking him, Mikey, he ain't gonna wake up that easily – and he needs this. Donnie was just doing what he had to do!" Raph broke off sharply, realising he'd dropped his brother in it, big time. _Thank Shell that 'Fearless' ain't awake – he'd be in full swing by now, _he mused, pulling Mikey off of their older brother, who was sprawled out on the floor.

"What? Donnie did this?" Mikey sounded confused and…hurt? From the top of the stairs, Donnie scolded himself for his stupidity, having not let Mikey know what he was going to do. He should have known from experience that leaving Mikey in the dark never amounted to anything. _But why has he gone down so fast?_ A probing question forced its way to the front of Don's thoughts as his focus transferred to Leo, _I must have used a stronger dosage than I thought…or perhaps I just triggered what his body was telling him had to happen all this time…_ a million possibilities overloaded his already crammed mind and he massaged his temples in a bid to slow the thoughts, but to no avail. Sighing, he backed into his room – Raph could handle it for the time being – he'd deal with the consequences in the morning.

Meanwhile, downstairs, Raph had sent Mikey to get some antiseptic wipes and a bandage; he'd had an idea – if they could somehow trick Leo into thinking he'd collapsed for no apparent reason, maybe he'd see sense. But first, he had to take care of Leo's hand – the knuckles on his right hand were caked in dried blood and were an ugly shade of purple underneath the layer of deep brown-crimson. Mikey returned in silence, unusual for him, Raph noted, and passed his brother the wipes. Taking one out of the packet and carefully opening it up, Raph shifted most of the blood from his brother's hand before wrapping a clean, almost-white bandage around it several times. Once it was secured, he struggled to lift his brother and after a few minutes of a futile struggle to make it up the stairs to Leo's room, he contented himself with laying his brother on the sofa and covering him with a blanket or two, putting a couple of cushions behind his head. Grinning smugly, he then trudged up to his own room, leaving Mikey staring, baffled, after him. Since when was Raph so nice to Leo? And what did he mean when he said that Donnie had done this to Leo? And why was Leo acting so…different…lately anyway? _Sheesh, now I know how Don feels – asking deep and difficult questions all the time is tough – how the Shell does he do it? Must be a techno-turtle thing…_he smiled faintly to himself as he followed Raph's example and headed for the sweet refuge of one of his best friends; his bed.

Morning went unnoticed by the inhabitants of the sewers, their alarms left untouched from the day before, and unsettling quiet taking the place of the cacophony of arguments, jokes, laughter and stern reprimands that usually filled the lair of the four mutant brothers and their rat father. Without Leo up to insist they began their training as early as was possible, they slept comfortably onwards until, at around half-past nine, Splinter decided that enough was enough and it was time to get up. He made his rounds of three of the rooms and the living room, waking his sons up by whatever means was necessary, having to resort to a sharp smack on the shell to rouse Michelangelo. But one son did not stir.

"Good morning, Sensei," Donatello yawned as he shuffled tiredly down the stairs.

"Good morning, my son – I trust you slept well?"

"Not as well as some," Don grinned playfully with a glance at his older brother, still asleep on the sofa. A grunt was heard at the top of the stairs and Raph made a point of descending to the lower level with as much noise and fuss as he could make,

"Raphael, stop making such a racket," Splinter chided his son, albeit half-heartedly.

"Mornin', dudes," Mikey, alert and ready to start his usual stream of painfully bad jokes and unbearably annoying pranks for the day, slid down the banister and almost landed on top of a scowling Raph.

"Sleepin' Beauty still out?" Raph let the corners of his mouth twitch.

"Yeah," Don answered hesitantly.

"What is wrong, my son?"

"It's just…I think I may have used a stronger dosage than anticipated…" Don trailed off, waiting for the blow. Raph, who'd been swatting away a grinning Mikey, looked back in Don's direction,

"Say what?"

"Uh, he may be out for longer than expected,"

"How long is 'longer than expected'?" Raph imitated his brother, the volume of his voice increasing slightly.

"Depending on the reaction his body has, it could be edging into tonight, even tomorrow," Don braced himself.

"What!"

"Raphael, do not worry---"

"I ain't worried, Sensei – I just don't see why that jerk should get outta training for a whole day when we still gotta do it!"

"He can't really train while he's out cold, Raphie-boy," Mikey spoke up, folding his arms.

"It still ain't fair," Raph moaned sullenly, also folding his arms and turning away from his family, "We should get a day off too,"

"Your brother is not getting a 'day off' through any choice of his own," Splinter reminded him gently.

"I don't care," the red-banded turtle snapped back.

"Raphael, you do not speak to me in that tone of voice – ten flips – now!" Splinter pointed to the dojo and Raph, muttering as he went, grudgingly obeyed.

"Busted!" Mikey sniggered to Donnie, elbowing his brother playfully in the ribs and gaining a chuckle from the purple-banded turtle with an impression of Raph's face as he'd walked out of the living room and into the dojo.

"Stupid, lousy, no-good…it's always…me…gonna kick his stupid shell…smack him one…bash his brains out…'cept he don't got any to bash…just wait…regret this…"

"Sounds like Raph's having a whale of a time," Mike grinned as snatches of Raph's insults and comments drifted out of the dojo about two and a half hours later. It seemed like Raph had completed his punishment and stayed to get some sort of revenge on a decent stand-in for a living creature; more commonly known as a punch-bag, both Raph's best friend and worst enemy at the same time.

"Do you think he's talking about Leo or about Splinter?" Donnie asked softly from where he was fiddling with the VCR, broken again by Mikey who, in the heat of a bundle, had kicked it and pulled out most of the wires while doing so, also succeeding in getting one of Raph's favourite movies stuck in the machine – Don laughed inwardly as he remembered how Mikey had hidden in Leo's cupboard that night to avoid being found by the furious hot-head on a rampage. This, of course, made Raph even angrier as when he asked Leo if he'd seen Mikey – so he could pummel him – he'd received only a lecture on responsibility and anger management in response.

"Hello? Donnie? Earth to techno-turtle?" Mikey was waving a hand in front of his brother's face.

"Sorry, Mike, I was off in my own little world there for a sec," Don glanced back down at the VCR, looking sheepish.

"Aren't you always?" was Mikey's cheeky response, "I said: it looks like Leo might be coming round." He pointed at the sofa and, sure enough, Leo was shifting.

"Uh-oh," Don leapt to his feet, carefully replacing the VCR underneath the T.V first, of course, and shot his brother a pleading stare.

"Might I suggest you start running?" the orange-clad turtle hissed, his gaze momentarily shifting to Leo, who looked furious, "I'll cover for ya – now go!"

"Thanks, bro," Donnie sighed, relieved. It was a well-known fact that, if you pushed the right buttons, Leonardo could be just as hot-headed, if not worse, that Raphael. It was as they were always pointing out to the two oldest of the four, they were so painfully similar and that was why they argued. They never listened – Donnie usually just got something thrown at him when he suggested it. With a start, the aptly nicknamed 'techno-turtle' realised he hadn't actually moved, and Leo was now muttering something about getting serious revenge on someone. He turned his shell on Mikey and Leo and ran into his lab; surrounded by his precious science, his brothers wouldn't touch him – the lab equipment was too valuable and they didn't fancy blowing up the lair in some unfortunate accident.

"Hey, Leo, how're you feeling?" Mike was immediately blocking his brother's view of the retreating Donatello.

"What the shell happened?" Leo almost snarled, eyes narrowing, "I was fine, then I drunk the tea, then I was talking to you…and then it all went dark. After the tea…Donnie went straight upstairs – he and Splinter – they were up to something. What happened, Michelangelo?" Leo finally addressed his brother directly, his gaze burning straight through Mikey's normally unparalleled clueless expression.

"I, uh…well, it's, um…you blacked out 'cause…you see, we…Don said...I went…you didn't say…Raph is…"

"What he means to say," Raph had emerged from the dojo at the sound of his older brother's voice and intercepted at this point to stop Mikey digging Don's grave too deep for him, "Is that after we had our drinks, Don said we should turn in. I went upstairs as well; to ask him if he'd noticed how pale you were and if you'd mentioned anything to him. But he told me you didn't say what was wrong when he'd asked you. Then I heard Mikey scream – we came back down and he told us you'd collapsed, just like that," he clicked his fingers for dramatic impact, "and so we put you on the couch and then---"

"---you didn't wake up this morning," Mikey finished, catching on at last to the relief of Raphael, "So Donnie took a blood sample to see if there was anything really wrong, and then Raph got mad 'cause you wouldn't be training today and he said we should have a day off too. But Splinter sent him to do ten flips, and me---"

"---Enough, Michelangelo," Splinter also cut in, having been in the kitchen preparing lunch.

"Sensei, is what they are saying true?" Leo looked to his master.

"I do not know, Leonardo – I was in my own room at the time." Splinter responded flatly, watching his baffled eldest try to make sense of things, winking at Raph and Mikey as he turned to go back to the lunch, "Hungry, Leonardo?"

"No, thanks, Sensei,"

"Leonardo, you must eat something,"

"Then why give him the option?" Mikey wondered aloud. Seeing Splinter's unamused glare, he sighed, "Ten flips?"

"No, Michelangelo,"

"Really?" Mike's face lit up. Raph and Leo looked slightly disappointed.

"Twenty."

"Bummer…" the youngest of Splinter's sons groaned incessantly as he dragged himself into the dojo. Leo and Raph shared a smug look, the latter struggling to hold in a satisfied 'ha'.

"Will one of you please fetch Donatello? It is time for lunch." Splinter ordered them sharply, his tail flicking round swiftly as he headed back to the kitchen to finish the preparation of the family's lunch. Leonardo stood, the colour having returned to his face and the dark circles under his eyes having receded slightly.

"I'll go," he volunteered, silencing Raph, who'd been about to protest, with a wave of his hand.

"Donnie?" Leo poked his head round the door of his younger brother's lab. Don was bent over a fiddly-looking piece of machinery but leapt three feet into the air and backed up against the lab wall at the sound of his brother's voice, bearing a striking resemblance to a deer stuck in headlights and about to meet their doom.

"Hey," he managed to squeak out.

"You ok?" Leo frowned.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine,"

"Are you sure? You're acting a little…odd…"

"Seriously, Leo, I swear to you I'm fine – but what about you? Feeling better?" Don hastened off the subject of how he himself was feeling; he feared he'd already given too much away with his suspicious behaviour.

"I never felt 'off' to begin with, but yeah, considering what I've been told about what happened, I'm feeling better, thanks," Leo was puzzled. Don massaged his temples. Leo sighed deeply, "Splinter says it's lunchtime."

"'Kay, thanks, Leo – I'll be out in a sec," Don nodded, relaxing his taut muscles slightly. Leo turned to leave and Don began to let himself sink onto a chair, pulling himself up sharply as his brother stopped walking and faced Donnie again,

"Raph said something about a blood test…" the elder turtle tilted his head on one side, regarding his brother with mild curiosity, "you figured out what happened yet?"

"…No," Don replied after a pause, feeling distinctly awkward about lying to his brother for so long and about something far less trivial than where Raph had hidden the remote controls for the television.

"Oh," Leonardo cast his eyes down, disconcertedly, "Well, if that changes, let me know, yeah?"

"Of course," Don forced out a smile and followed his brother into the kitchen, where a grumpy Raphael and an unusually quiet Michelangelo along with a stern Splinter were waiting for them.

"Sit down, both of you; I am not comfortable with the current…issues…that are not being directly addressed in this family. Neither am I comfortable with the lies, however necessary you feel they are, and the truths that are being tip-toed around. Don't give me that pained look, Donatello; you knew that this would come out. How you were expecting to get away with it for much longer, I do not know. Now, you will tell your brother the truth about what happened last night." Splinter folded his arms and Leonardo slowly stood up and gave his brothers an uncertain glare, not knowing what to expect.

"Leo…" Donnie began, "…you didn't…collapse…last night. I put sleeping pills in your tea."

"Excuse me…?" Leo's tone was dangerous, "Why?"

"Bro, it was the only way, and Don thought---"

"Was I talking to you?" Leo rounded on Raph, who scowled darkly and would have made some witty comeback were it not for Mikey's warning hand on his shoulder. The youngest of the four was surveying the scene without saying a word. He had been against this from the beginning; shell, he didn't even know what had happened until it was too late. Leo continued, "You were all in on this?"

"Mikey wasn't," Don shut his eyes, "He didn't know until after you were out. He really did think you'd collapsed…" at this point, Mikey offered Leo a brief smile, which was hesitantly returned.

"But you and Raph…and Master Splinter?" Leo had the expression of someone who'd been deeply betrayed.

"My son, I knew of the drugs, but I was under the obviously false impression that they were to tell you the truth once you were awake. Once I realised this was not the case, however, I remained neutral. I will not side with any of you on this matter, for it is one with many perspectives." Splinter's frown deepened as Leo's face radiated utter disbelief. The oldest of the four reptilian teenagers, cast a scathing look in the direction of Donnie and an equally cutting glare at Raph, leaving the room.

"Sensei," Mikey almost whined, looking for an answer in the face of the rat. Splinter, knowing what was going through his son's head right now, and exactly why he had no real argument against Donatello's actions, spoke just loud enough for Leonardo and the other three of his sons to hear.

"You can put out a fire, Leonardo, but what do you do with the smoke…"


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: -** I had a bit of a brain blockage on this chapter – it has taken me so long to write it because I just couldn't get the words out! I knew where I wanted it to start and finish but the bit in-between caused me more problems than I would have thought possible! It's not that long as I don't want to run over into the next section! Hope you like it – read and review!

Punch. Kick. Punch. Leo fought. Kick. Punch. He fought hard. But no matter how many punches he delivered, how many kicks reached their target, his opponent remained, as steady and unchanging as the Earth spinning on its axis, a small factor in a much larger system, parts of which are unknown even to those who have explored its every corner. His enemy repeatedly flew back at him every time he lashed out. This was not a characteristic thing for Leonardo to do – it was more along the lines of something you would expect of Raphael. His opposition kept a calm exterior, emotionless, blank, untouched and unfeeling, invincible, no matter how hard the blue-banded turtle launched himself forwards, the often re-enforced strength and frequent healing after many a battle with the reptilian brothers showing in scars peppered all over. Nothing was going to sway the balance, tip it either way.

Finally, Leo gave up, aiming one last kick, and as the punch-bag rocketed back and forth, chains clinking, from the force, Leo's face grew a little softer. Only alone though. To those who he had once considered trustworthy, undoubtedly so, he would remain a cold, icy glacier, unintentionally intimidating, even destroying anything that came into contact with it, whether friend or foe. He sighed. This problem, what was keeping him from his family, what he knew had deep down created the rip in the canvas that was now torn and frayed, was only small in the great scheme of things. So ordinary. _So pathetic, _his head cut in. So often was it that Leonardo's head and heart differed in opinion that he had learned to reach a compromise on most matters. But this was something that the two forces of logic and faith could not agree on. On the one side, his head telling him to grow up and start acting his age, to stop being so unbelievably feeble, to stop getting worked up over something that so many people in the topside world suffered from.

But his heart would intervene, telling him that he wasn't part of the topside world, that he had things in his past that were causing it when most of the humans would put it down to stress or sheet unwillingness to relent in their drug-soaked, alcohol-ridden parties that continued to unearthly hours of the morning. Deep down, he knew that it was something he couldn't get over, not even by letting it all out; not with faith and determination. Not with medicine, drugs, brute force; not with logic and science. This was something that, to him if nobody else, was a big deal, and was battering through his defences at a near impossible speed.

But if it was such a big deal, why couldn't he admit it? Why wouldn't he admit it? Why didn't he take the many opportunities presented to him to admit it? All these, he knew, were just different versions of the same question, yet he could find no answer to any of them. Now, leaning against the wall of the dojo, Leo slumped over so his forehead rested on his knees. He hadn't noticed the lone figure in the doorway, watching him with a growing expression of loathing and unstoppable rage. And yet for all the things he could have said, should have said, Raphael remained silent and merely walked away, unnoticed still by Leonardo.

"Unbelievable, Casey, that's what he is!" Raph vented his frustration in a wrestling match against his dark-haired, vigilante friend.

"Maybe you oughta cut him some slack, Raphie,"

"Don't call me that!"

"I'm serious, dude; you can't go round actin' all mad at him forever. You gotta try and understand," Casey's face was almost shocked as he realised he was, in fact, imparting words of wisdom and sense. Raph, for a moment, looked equally amused; this did not last long, and within seconds they were back to the wrestling, Raph still steaming, in spite of having been blowing it off for about an hour now.

"_Understand?_ You think I didn't try that already? Shell, Case, we've tried everythin' – we got nothin' left to try!" Raph had slipped into his broadest New-Yorker accent. He had grown up with the accent, it defined a part of him, but it always became broader when in a fighting situation or when he was with Casey and letting off some steam; he couldn't explain why, it just happened. With a growl, Raph threw Casey off and pinned his arms down,

"Alright, already, you win!" Casey panted, "Can we _please_ take a break now?"

"…Fine." Raph replied after a few seconds of reluctant silence, "But I'm still mad…"

"Ya know, Raph," Casey was examining a faint bruise on his arm, obtained a few weeks earlier in a fight with a gang of thugs that had been planning to rob Second Time Around, April's precious antique shop and the second home of the turtles, "Ya know, Raph," he started again, "However much you pretend you're mad at him…"

"…you say 'I know you're not really or you'd be taking it out on him' and you'll be strung up by your own intestines," Raph snarled viciously.

"I wasn't gonna say that! Well, okay, so what if I was?" Casey re-thought his statement as he was shot a glare, "It's true, and you know it; why vent here? What's wrong with your brother? I thought you'd leap at the chance of a half-decent excuse to pummel the livin' daylights outta him!"

"Normally, I would, but--- aw, forget it, it sounds stupid."

"Try me," Casey's face was wrinkled in an unnaturally solemn frown.

"Call it a gut instinct," Raph slapped himself mentally at the confused look on Casey's face, "Alright, to put it in plain English; I have a weird…hunch…that it would _not_ be a good idea…" Raph looked up to meet Casey's eyes, wondering if his human friend had grasped it; Casey was surprisingly slow on the up-take considering how fast he moved in a fight. Casey fidgeted – he understood what Raph was saying as far as the words made sense, but he didn't know how Raph could just know something like that. He shrugged,

"Must be a ninja thing," he mumbled, "Can we get back to wrestling now?"

"Wait a minute," Raph froze, as there was a soft knock on Casey's door. Raph vaulted over the sofa and crouched behind it as Casey opened the door.

"Hey, Case, have you seen Raph anywhere?" the visitor asked, the voice familiar and welcoming to Raph.

"Alright, Raphie, you can come out now," Casey grinned as Raph emerged from hiding.

"What's up, Don?" Raph could tell that he was going to get a long answer so he gestured to the sofa and took a seat, Don and Casey following suit.

"It's Leo,"

"Stupid bonehead," Raph muttered.

"Raph! Are you going to let me talk?" Don didn't raise his voice, just used a sterner tone. He sighed and continued once it became clear that no apology was to come from Raph. Gathering his thoughts, the purple-banded turtle took a deep breath, and the words all came out in one, "He was in the dojo, training I guess, and, after you left, Mikey, I dunno whether he was feeling bad or just wanted to let off some steam, went in, not letting me or Splinter come in and they were in there for ages and it was silent and I was in my lab and Splinter was meditating and I thought I heard something but decided I was imagining things so I carried on, and half an hour later I go to the kitchen and on my way I see that the dojo door is open so I go in and---"

"Whoa, bro, slow down, I ain't getting a word of this! Just give me the general idea,"

"Mike and Leo are both gone. Mikey left a note." Don held out a crumpled piece of paper and Raph took it sharply, scanning over it.

"So? They went out to blow off some steam – they should be back…in about three minutes time – Mike says they were only going for a run round the block and that doesn't take long," he was cut off by the expression on Donnie's face, "What?"

"Raph, do you know how long you've been gone?"

"Couple of hours, maybe," Raph shrugged, scrutinizing some dried blood on one of his knuckles.

"Try six hours, give or take a few minutes. And I found the note about an hour after you left…they've been gone just over five hours, Raph,"

"Five hours? How many blocks are they running around?" At the un-amused face of Donnie, Raph rolled his eyes, "Oh, come on, Don, Leo and Mike can handle themselves – they'll be fine. Besides, if Leo wants to get his shell waxed just 'cause we tried to help then it's his call, and if Mike wants to join our fearless leader then he can, but I'm havin' squat to do with it."

"Stay here and waste your time then," Don's voice was quiet and he stood, turning away from Raph, "But I trust you remember the last time Leo was gone for hours…and I also trust you remember how you felt afterwards. If they're in trouble then the guilt it on your head, not mine. I'm going to find them." The purple-clad turtle left, "Thanks, Case," he bowed on the way out, not really knowing why he was thanking the man; it was merely a habit, something he did out of common courtesy. Once he was gone, Casey wheeled round to face Raph, but all he caught was a flash of red out of the corner of his eye as Raph vanished out the window.

**A/N: -** Well, there we are! Please review! I know it's short but the next chapter will be longer!


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: -** After another, unfortunately, long wait, here's another chapter – I say it every time: read and review and, fingers crossed, enjoy! Thank you for all your reviews so far and thank you for the suggestion of the line and extra spacing to show a difference in which character the story is following. I guess it can be kinda confusing!

"We gotta keep moving," Leo barked to Mike across the rooftop, "The minute we stop is the minute we are within range of their guns, and we don't know what sort of guns they are, it's not worth taking the risk."

"But we can't keep this up!" Mike replied breathlessly. He and his older brother were racing across the rooftops in an attempt to get away from some badly-dressed street thugs, as Mikey had named them, although Leo had been quick to point out that even badly-dressed street thugs were dangerous when they possessed at least three guns, and that wasn't including the back-up that had arrived since. Now they didn't know how many guns they were trying to outrun. True enough that perhaps they had dreadful aim, another of Mikey's attempts at getting Leo to think optimistically, but the blue-clad turtle had been quick to point out that if they had enough guns they wouldn't need to aim and had asked his younger sibling if they really wanted to take that chance and slow down to find out – after all, their aim could be useless, but what if it wasn't?

"We have to lose them!" Leo panted, struggling to keep up the pace they had set. If only he could stop, look round, just for a moment. Just to see if the gang was in sight. Because if they were out of the firing range of the guns, or even out of sight of the gang for a few seconds, then they could take the chance to duck into hiding and get Don to come and pick them up. Leo's face darkened immediately at the thought of Donatello. The thought of his purple-banded brother was quickly followed by the thought of Raphael, both turtles unwelcome in his mind and presence at the present time. Though if it came down to it, they would have no choice. Leo glanced at Mike. If his little brother's life hung in the balance, he would do it. If his own life hung in the balance…his mind was awash with all the hateful words he could let pour out of his mouth to drown those he was not best pleased with. But he couldn't rationalise. Not right now. Not when he could barely keep enough oxygen flowing round his body to keep up this ridiculous pace. He and Mikey were slowing up, he could tell without the aid of several shots that ricocheted off of the rooftops around them. The gang was close; close enough to shoot at them. Close enough to kill them.

"Bro, we gotta get out of the way – they're gonna hit us!" Mike did his best to cover the rising panic that was beginning to surface on his face, keeping his voice steady, trying to reason with Leo. The older of the two turtles nodded grimly and glanced about them. It was unfortunate that they were on this particular route tonight – any other night and the gang would not have been able to follow them. But tonight, in this part of the city, there was only a few feet between each building, sometimes not even that, making it easy for their pursuers to follow them, even allowing them to take their time crossing from one building to another – after all, they had the guns so what was a few measly seconds lost in a chase where their enemies were quickly tiring. The gang had assumed that these freaks had come from a fancy dress party, and they were closing in their aim on the weaker of the two, the slower, the more distracted. Both turtles knew this, and they both knew that tonight the same one of them fell into all three categories. And it was that small detail which terrified them into another burst of speed.

"If we can reach that building, over there," Leo threw out a hand in a seemingly vague direction, Mike's eyes flicking between where they were going and where Leo wanted them to go, "Then we may stand a chance – the buildings are further apart."

"Leo, reality check here," Mike yelped as a bullet came within inches of them, "We're not gonna make it that far at this rate!"

"You got a better idea?" Leo half-growled at his youngest brother, turning his head slightly, his bandana tails whipping across his face. Michelangelo was silent, "Then follow my lead."

-

Meanwhile, at ground level, two men squealed like animals awaiting slaughter as they were beaten and thrown around until they lay whimpering on the ground, another figure stood above them, snarling down at them,

"Which way?"

"We…we don't know…" one of them stammered, the defiance lacing his voice giving him and his companion away. Before he could even let out a cry, he was choking, muscles going into spasm as he fought against the strong arms holding him to the wall.

"Don't mess with me," the gruff voice replied, about to swing another punch when he was distracted by a gunshot. Dropping the man, he leapt up the fire escape of the nearest building, stopping three feet short of the top as several figures leapt the three feet gap, albeit uncertainly, between the disused and demolition-worthy buildings. He spared a glance down but the two men were gone, just as he'd suspected. Sighing heavily, his attention was re-focused by another gunshot. He clambered up the last few rungs of the ladder and peered cautiously over the top of the building at the retreating backs of those he'd seen jump. They were chasing something, but what? With a sickening jolt, he realised he already knew, "Shit." He muttered.

Several blocks away, Don kicked an old glass bottle across the road, the only window through which he allowed his frustration to escape, grinning as it smashed into the pavement the other side, shattering. He was wandering aimlessly after having searched frantically for his brothers for only a few minutes, his mind flying in all directions, his over-active imagination taking hold and dominating his natural and unmatched sense of logic, presenting him with images of his brothers dying in a cold alleyway somewhere, mutilated and bleeding. Sadistic as it was, Donatello was unable to push these thoughts from his mind.

"Don," a voice hissed. Don sidled to a stop at the bottom of a fire escape ladder, tilting his head upwards to see his older brother, red bandana tails seeming to float behind him. The younger of the two upturned his lips in what Raph interpreted to be a satisfied smirk. Dropping to ground level so he was facing Donnie, the hothead snarled, "What?"

"Guilt got the better of you, I see?" was the mild response.

"No, jus' that wrestling Case gets borin' if ya keep winning..." Raph muttered, the lie sounding unconvincing. Don arched an eye ridge, "Fine, so I don't want them gettin' their shells waxed – that so bad?"

"No,"

"Good, then---"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Don held up a hand to silence his brother, his eyes wide and fearful, "What makes you think they're getting their shells waxed?"

"Gang of thugs, relatively well-trained, heavily armed," Raph sighed, absent-mindedly twirling one of his Sais, "They were chasin' something across the rooftops…I ain't a genius but…" he shrugged.

"…Leo and Mike," Don's face was grim, "Which way?"

Raph pointed and the two brothers were up the ladder and rocketing across the city's buildings without another word.

-

Veering sharply to one side, Leonardo and Michelangelo tried to dodge the shower of bullets raining down on them. Mikey was nervous. Leo was exhausted. If they didn't get ahead soon then they would be dead before the hour was up, a pair of bodies to be found and dissected by the authorities, consequently placing their other brothers in grave danger.

"Turn and fight,"

"What?" Mikey almost choked on the air that was getting harder and harder to take in.

"Turn and fight," Leo repeated, "I have an idea…"

"Bro, if we stop, they'll shoot us!"

"Maybe – but if we keep going like this then they'll shoot us." Seeing Mike's disbelieving face, Leo added with a smile, "Trust me,"

"I do trust you…but…" Mike went to continue but his words turned into a yelp as he saw Leo skid to a halt and draw his katana, running back towards the guns, "Leo, what the shell are you doing?" he cried to his brother, skidding to a stop and turning to watch, helpless as the gap between his older brother and their attackers lessened. Mikey's world was silent; the only sound the pounding of blood in his head and his own ragged breathing. Even the gunfire was soundless to him now. Eyes laser-focused on his brother, he could do nothing save for stand still, face twisted in horror. Leonardo and the gun-wielding thugs merged together with a jolt and a sudden onslaught of sound, colour and light battered Michelangelo and once again his world became all too real. The clashing of metal on metal and the welcome sound of bullets being deflected did nothing to quell the increasing feeling of foreboding that the orange-clad turtle felt in his gut. Rushing to aid his brother, who by some miracle had yet to take a blow from fist or firearms, he drew out his Nunchuks, his precious babies. His sights were set on his brother. As he ran, he saw Leonardo falter. It was in that moment that one shot rang out truer and clearer than the rest and all who fought on the rooftop froze.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: -** Ok, so there's a little more Raph in this chapter than there has been in previous chapters and it's the conclusion of the shooting. I have to say I _really_ enjoyed writing this chapter so I hope you enjoy reading it! Please review for me at the end – any comments are appreciated as long as they're constructive:-D Ok, enjoy!

Heads turned. Michelangelo recoiled sharply as the shot echoed across the rooftops. The gunfire had ceased. Leonardo turned slowly; his katana hung loose at his sides and his entire being was trembling involuntarily, his efforts to stop it unheeded by his screaming limbs. He faced the leader of the gang; in the brute's hand was a weapon larger by far than those possessed by those he led. It had been aimed at Leo's back, though now he'd turned it was pointing directly at his chest. The blue-clad turtle shook his head, breathing hard, hearing a heavy dripping sound. _Rain?_ He cast his gaze to the sky but it was a solitary dripping, not the spattering sound made by rain. Gradually, his eyes moved back towards the man stood opposite him. His eyes wandered down from the man's face, coming to rest somewhere between his chest and his stomach; the source of the dripping. A smoking hole gurgled there as it oozed blood, which ran down his body and dripped off of his clothing onto the cold rooftop. A cold fear set in on the face before him as Leo watched the man slide to the floor, his eyes following the body as it released a reluctant death rattle. The rest of the men had dropped their weapons to their sides: a few guns clattered to the ground as their grip slackened in shock. At the edge of his vision, Leo could see a blurred figure approach Mikey, wrapping something round him. He brought his head up again, but instead of the man who'd been there before was someone else, right arm raised and holding a gun as if it were the most natural thing in the world. A finger was still curled round the trigger and the gun still pointed at Leo, but it was not aimed. The two locked eyes and the weapon was lowered.

At a single word from the killer of their leader, the delusional street-thugs scrambled for the ladder down to ground level, fearful glances backwards to their fallen leader saying more than words ever could. Michelangelo felt a stab of pity for them as he pulled the blanket that had been wrapped round him so that the corners met and he was completely enveloped inside, the material shielding him from the sharp wind.

"We go home," a voice spoke beside him, taking his arm and leading him towards Leonardo, who was still entranced by the cold stare of the figure opposite him. With a soft snort, the gun was thrown aside and skidded across the ground, coming to rest several feet away.

"You heard Donnie; we go home," a gravelly voice murmured coldly, its owner turning to stride ahead, followed by three others, each lost to their individual torments.

-

"He saved your life," Mikey whispered to Leo as the two sat on the latter's bed the following evening.

"I know he did," Leo replied soberly, "But he clearly doesn't want to talk to me and I don't want to talk to him."

"And what about Donnie?" Mike rose from the bed and paced towards Leo's desk, his eyes scanning over the contents with minimal interest, "He only wanted to check you over after the battle,"

"And conduct a psycho-analysis, no doubt."

"You don't know that!"

"I can make a pretty good guess," Leo hissed.

"He just wanted to make sure you weren't hurt…"

"Bullshit," Leo scoffed. Mike was taken aback slightly; it was unlike his brother to swear for no apparent reason.

"Leo, you gotta stop this – it's ridiculous."

"Since when were you in charge – I'm leader, not you,"

"I never said--" Mike protested.

"And quit jumping to defend Donatello; I know what you all think, you all think I'm crazy, paranoid, an idiot," Leo reeled off the list on his fingers, sensibly stopping at three so he could use his other hand to hit each finger as he counted off the words, "I'm not thick, Mikey."

"Yeah, well," Mike sounded hurt, "Neither am I."

"Raph? Can I talk to you?" Michelangelo had made a beeline for Raph's room after what he'd labelled a 'disagreement' with Leonardo – the word 'fight' didn't sit well with him when dealing with his brothers.

"Whatever," was the response; Mike took it to mean 'yes'. He opened the door so a chink of light was allowed into the room. The lights were off in Raph's room. No doubt because he was so ticked off that he'd immediately started beating things up not caring whether he could see them or not, such was his temperament at times.

"I just spoke to Leo,"

"I heard ya through the wall," Raph's voice drifted over to him.

"Can I turn a light on?" Mikey shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Raph shrugged; it slipped his mind that Mike couldn't see the gesture, "Please?" his younger brother spoke again. Sighing, Raph flicked a switch next to his bed and a small lamp on his bedside table illuminated them. Finally shutting the door, Mike sat cross-legged on the floor, clearing a space between the shredded paper, worn and over-read magazines and fragments of furniture. A photograph caught the young turtle's attention. It had several holes in it and unpleasant doodles littered what remained of it. He let out a soft chuckle.

"What?" Raph growled irritably, twirling his Sais is various different patterns as a distraction.

"You were really peeved, huh?"

"Past tense?" Raph arched an eye ridge and glanced down at his brother from where he stood by a wall, also with several holes in it.

"Alright," Mike corrected himself, "You _are_ really peeved, huh?"

"Understatement," Raph snarled.

"Whatever," Mikey couldn't mask his amusement, "But why the photo? Look, you were close to getting me instead…"

"Only 'cause you wanted to make signs behind Leo's head," Raph pointed out with a smirk.

"Heh, yeah," Mike rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. It had been only a few months ago: April had been making a collage of photos as a project, though her main aim had been too get to Casey as he'd been more of a jerk than usual. She was purposely going to leave him out, though Mike had caught her blue-tacking a couple of blurrier photos to be removed later, no doubt to be replaced by ones of Casey. April was so easy to read sometimes, though he never told her. He'd probably get slapped…

"What d'ya want, Mikey?" Raph groaned as Mike continued to chuckle to himself.

"Oh," the younger turtle frowned, an expression that didn't suit him, "I guess nothing, really - I mean, I just wanted to talk, that's all. Just to see if…well, just to say thanks, I guess, on Leo's behalf, I mean. Well, and mine too…that dude was gonna kill him and I couldn't have done anything…"

"Quit it with the mush, Mike, the sap-o-meter's about to blow,"

"I was just saying, seeing as you're both too stubborn to talk to each other."

"Playin' the peacemaker ain't like you," Raph eyed him suspiciously, "Stick to bein' the parasite, Mike, you're better at it," he grinned cruelly at his little brother, shooing him off the floor and out of the room, slamming the door afterwards, just because he felt like it.

-

Wandering through the sewer tunnels, Mikey made as much noise as he could, splashing the water around and rattling the chains of his Nunchuks. They were perfect for him; they could be both silent and cause a racket – just like he could. It was getting late. With a soft groan, he dragged himself back to the lair, shuffling through the gloomy tunnels of the sewers until he reached the lair. With any luck, he might get a lie-in if he'd been out until the early hours of the morning. _No chance…_he scowled to himself. Tip-toeing up the stairs, he saw a glimmer of light from under Leo's door. He knelt down, then pressing himself to the ground to see if he could see anything under the door, a shadow maybe, or even his brother's feet. The rest of the lair was pitch black and Mike was so focused on the task at hand that he'd overlooked a basic rule of Ninjitsu – _always_ watch your back.

An ear-splitting crash from Leo's room had Donatello out of bed like a lightning bolt from a storm cloud. He snatched up his Bo and threw himself out of his room and along to his brother's, prepared for whatever might await him. Crashing into Raph as he went, the two stumbled over each other, eventually tumbling head-over-heels over the threshold into Leonardo's room, sent flying even further as they tripped over the two already on the ground. Head spinning from a sharp blow dealt out by the wall, Raph staggered to his feet, grabbing Mike by the bandana tails and de-tangling him from Leonardo.

"Alright, Leo," he snapped viciously, throwing Mike aside, "I've had it. This has got to stop!"

"How is this my fault?" Leo leapt up and squared up to Raph. By this time, Don had also hauled himself to his feet, "If Mikey hadn't been snooping around my room then maybe I wouldn't have tripped over him!"

"If you'd been asleep, like any normal turtle is at two-thirty in the mornin' then Mike wouldn't have had a reason to come snoopin'!"

"As much as I hate to admit it, Raph's right," Don sighed, "Leo, this has to stop – you're going to burn yourself out, and you don't seem to care."

"We've had this conversation," Leo told Don sharply, "And nothing's changed."

"It's pathetic, Leo," Raph added, much to Don's dismay. If Raph would keep his temper to himself, just for once, then maybe everything wouldn't blow up into an argument.

"Oh, really?" Leo's face darkened, "Pathetic, Raphael? Is that what I am?"

"That's what I said,"

"Then maybe you don't need me here,"

"Maybe we don't."

"Raph – Leo – ugh, that's not true," Don interjected, massaging his temples.

"It's alright, Don – if Raphael doesn't like having me around, then maybe _he _should leave."

"Why me? You're the one causin' the problem here," Raph spat, "And I certainly don't need ya screwin' up _my_ life with _your_ baggage,"

"Raphael. Leonardo. Silence this instant. You are both being incredibly childish and I am disappointed in you. I would have thought that this manner of petty bickering was beyond you, but it seems that I have over-estimated your sense of reason, your sense of judgement and I have certainly over-estimated your consideration of the feelings of others." Splinter spoke from the doorway.

"Sorry, Master Splinter," Leo mumbled meekly.

"Kiss-ass," Raph hissed in the older turtle's ear. Leo glowered at him and discreetly tugged at his bandana tails, causing Raph to return the favour. Within seconds, the childish games had accelerated into a full-blown fight, weapons drawn and being aimed ruthlessly at each other. In one swift movement, Splinter disarmed them both and seized their bandana tails, twisting them round his paws until he had both of his sons under control.

"And now," his voice shook slightly with suppressed rage, "You dare to continue this fight after I have explicitly told you to cease. And with your brothers and I in the room where we could easily be subject to injury or offence due to your careless brawling. You are acting like children so you will be punished like children." Splinter pulled them out of the room, the two turtles struggling to keep up as their backs were bent awkwardly and it was difficult to walk while their Father had hold of their bandana tails. He took them into the dojo and thrust them into separate corners, "Now, I will sit in the middle. You two will face the walls and I will not hear another peep from you until I dismiss you, understood?" he glared at them sternly. The two didn't answer, merely pouted. Splinter took a deep breath, counting to ten in his head for what must have been at least the ninth time that day, "Understood?" he repeated, his already battered patience hanging by a thread.

"How can we answer if ya don't wanna hear another sound?" Raph muttered discontentedly.

"For every wisecrack you make, Raphael, you are merely making yourself look more foolish. You are both seventeen, you are young adults now, not children. And if you want freedom," he looked at Raph, "Respect," his gaze switched to Leo, who looked away swiftly, "Then you have to earn it. And you are not making a very good start. Now, face the wall."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: -** Merry Christmas to everyone on Hope you all have a fantastic time! Thought I'd better update before Christmas – the next two weeks seem to be the break between Christmas concerts and pantomimes! Enjoy Christmas and make the most of it while it lasts! It only comes once a year! Hope you like this chapter – Read and Review for me! Thank-you!

Outside the dojo, Don and Mikey waited in the living room, nervous,

"What do you think he's gonna do to them?" Don asked with a grimace.

"I dunno, but it's not gonna be pretty," Mike wrinkled his beak in response, though his eyes twinkled.

"Maybe he'll attach them to some sort of high-tech mechanical collar with a shock device installed so that whenever they argue they get shocked," Don suggested.

"Get real, Donnie, we all know he's gonna make them clean out the lair every day for a month – I'm gonna mess it up so bad they won't know what's hit them!" Mike was grinning mischievously.

"I am afraid I must tell you that both of your suggestions are incorrect," Splinter opened the door to the dojo and emerged slowly, shutting it again with a soft click, "Although I am tempted by both, one has been tried and has failed while the other would severely affect the speed at which we could train."

"I wouldn't complain," Mike grumbled softly.

"Michelangelo! That is not the attitude. Your brothers are stood inside the dojo in _absolute silence_, and are not to be disturbed." Splinter brushed past his sons, his cane tapping on the floor with every other step, creating a rhythm to which Mikey immediately began humming, not listening to a word his Sensei was saying. Don rolled his eyes and turned back in the direction of his laboratory, hoping to remain unnoticed by Mikey. No such luck. The second he put one foot in front of the other, Don acquired a second shadow in the form of a certain orange-banded turtle, asking him ceaseless questions about anything and everything – to which the answers were so scientifically complex that Don could not get Mikey to understand the concepts anyway.

-

Inside the dojo, Raphael could have sworn he had gone deaf – never had he and his brother stayed in silence for this long. Leonardo, meanwhile, was under the impression that there was a superior being at work – rarely did Raph not comment on Splinter's lectures after the old rat was gone, usually saying something along the lines of 'Leo started it,' or 'It's always me,' and gaining a repeat lecture for both of them from Splinter in the process. Clearing his throat softly, Leo gained Raph's unwanted attention. His red-clad brother was watching him carefully, perhaps hoping that Leo would be the first to break the silence so that he would get into further trouble. The truth of the matter was that Raphael was secretly relieved on hearing the noise – it signaled that he was not deaf, just silent – he did not know which he found more disconcerting.

-

"Man, how long have they been in there?"

"I-"

"You think Splinter's still mad?"

"Ma-"

"Wonder if they're still gonna be fighting when they come outta there?"

"Pro-"

"Hey, Don, you're being kinda quiet – everything ok?"

"Y-"

"Ya know, I'm not sure I like this silence idea – you think it will work?"

"H-"

"Ooh, what if th---" a hand was clamped over Mikey's mouth by Don. The purple-wearing turtle sighed and then inhaled deeper than before,

"Firstly, I would say they've been in there approximately forty-three minutes; Secondly, maybe Splinter is still mad – although I don't think he was mad, I'd say he was more disappointed; Thirdly, probably, yes – they never stop fighting; Fourthly, yes I am fine, it is just impossible to get a word in edgeways; Finally, have any of Splinter's punishments worked on those two before?" he removed his hand.

Mikey chuckled, "Heh, sorry," he rubbed the back of his head.

"Don't sweat it," Don dismissed the apology, knowing full well that Mike's apologies just tided him over until the next chance he got to get on someone's nerves.

"No, seriously, I'm sorry,"

"I said: Don't sweat it,"

"But you don't sound like you forgive me – I really am sorry, bro," Mike whined, putting on the puppy dog eyes; after Leo, Don was the next most likely to melt, although as he thought about it he realised there wasn't much to call between them. It was Raph that pummeled him whether or not he gave him the pleading, innocent look.

"What part of 'Don't sweat it' do you not understand?" Don turned on his brother, his voice rising slightly above the gentle tone Don usually applied to his voice. This was the point at which most sensible mutant turtle brothers would cease to grate on the purple-banded turtle's nerves. Mikey, however, seemed oblivious to the limits of his brothers, and continued to push.

"Um, the 'don't' part?" Mike quipped, poking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth.

"Mike, why don't you go and play on a video game or something. Or maybe you could sit outside the dojo and wait for Raph and Leo so you can tease them. You could even go and make yourself some popcorn and watch a movie. You could do all three at once if you really wanted to, just so long as you let me get on with my work!"

"Geez, Don, keep your shell on. You're getting as bad as Leo," Mike left the lab, popping his head back round moments later with a snigger, "And _that_, oh brother of mine, is saying something!"

-

Leo turned his head a little to the left, meeting the gaze of his hotheaded brother, who still happened to be watching him. He longed to say 'What?' or 'Why can you never be this quiet when I tell you to?' or 'How long have we been here?' or... he was thrown from his train of thought by a prickling sensation in his left foot; Then his right. It spread rapidly up his legs as far as his knees, causing him to shift uncomfortably. He wanted desperately to stamp his feet, administer the remedy for severe pins and needles, and stop the aching. But instead his toes curled under and dug into the underside of his foot. Grimacing, he couldn't help but notice a soft snort from the other side of the room. Raph was laughing at him. Of all the cheek; Raphael was laughing at him. Leo scowled, unaware that to Raph it merely looked as though Leo was attempting a somewhat twisted form of contemporary dance. He glanced at the floor, spotting a small chunk of wood, probably from a training board or something similar. Stooping slowly, he picked it up between his thumb and forefinger, scrutinizing it carefully – it would do. He flicked it across the dojo, catching Raph square in the back of the head, just above his bandana. That was the last straw.

-

"_My sons, I have tried and tried to reason with you. To be fair and give you just punishments without going overboard, but you leave me no choice. I will…"_

Splinter's voice faded in and out of the dojo, drifting through to Don and Mike, both sat in the living room, the latter sporting a satisfied grin while the brainier of the two looked mildly concerned for the welfare of the two turtles caught up in Splinter's wrath.

"…_petty arguments and the trivial revenge you…"_

Mike gave Don the thumbs up and snickered softly as he heard Splinter turn his fury first onto Leonardo; a rare occurrence, it was one not to be missed when it happened.

"…_disappointed in you for this childish and pointless behaviour – do not make that face at me, Leonardo – why you felt the need to…"_

Don narrowed his eyes at Mikey in a silent reprimand at first, but even he could not mask the warm glow he felt at being one of those in Splinter's better books, while the hot-head and the leader, the two eldest, were being ripped to shreds by their Master's tongue, which was renowned for being just as sharp as his claws.

"…_for you, Raphael. Your temper is out of control. Perhaps you should consider…"_

Mike had clamped his hand over his mouth, stifling the laughter he was longing to let out in a stream of guffaws. Don, seeing his brother's struggle, assisted by clamping his own hand over Mike's in an effort to dull the sound further.

"_...goes for both of you. Leonardo, if you would just stop with this pretence that there is nothing wrong with you. How long has it been since you slept? And by 'slept', I mean for more that five hours."_

Don's ears pricked up at this point. Maybe Splinter was getting somewhere with Leo. But from the silence that followed, Don altered that idea. Raph's dulcet tones piped up with yet another patronising, sarcastic comment – the sort he was best at making – causing Splinter's attentions to be distracted once more from Leonardo. Don could almost hear the sigh of relief from his eldest brother.

"…_what did I tell you about such remarks, Raphael? Now, both of you get out of my sight. I do not wish to see, or hear, you for the remainder of the day. If so much as a whisper of contempt or insult reaches my ears, whether directed at each other, your brothers, or even myself, there will be serious trouble. I shall meditate on your punishments and call you back once I have had time to think. You are dismissed."_

-

"Leo, come on," Michelangelo whined, "Please?"

No answer.

"Leeoo, please? Please, bro?" he tried again, elongating the vowel sounds in his brother's name. That always got to him.

No answer.

"What about you, Donnie?" Mike turned hopefully to the next brother.

"Sorry, Mikey, I'm a little busy right now. Maybe later."

Mike shrugged; at least Don had given him a response. With a faint hope, he turned to his last brother, "Whaddaya say, Raphie?"

A grunt.

"What's that supposed to mean? You may know what your various grunts and groans mean, but can ya translate for the rest of us? We're not all fluent in hot-head, y--- hey!"

"You deserved that," Don muttered from his corner as Raph bapped Mike on the head.

"Did not,"

"You're pouting like a three year old, Mike," Don groaned.

"Am not,"

Raph grunted, "Will ya quit bein' so damn childish? It's drivin' me crazy here!"

"Driving you crazy? I would have sold my soul to swap places with you when you and Leo were in the dojo,"

"Yeah, right," Raph scoffed, "You mean to tell me that you'd honestly prefer a lecture for somethin' ya didn't do," a glare at Leo, "than spend a few minutes with Mike?"

"A few minutes? Try almost a whole day! With him asking questions, non-stop, and babbling on about who knows what!"

"Hey, what is this – is it Mikey-bashing day already?" the hurt orange-banded brother protested.

"Every day is Mikey-bashin' day," Raph snorted. Leo arched an eye ridge and inhaled deeply, exhaling with just as much purpose, "What's up, fearless?" sneered the red-clad turtle, rolling his eyes.

"Raph, remember what Splinter said," Don reminded the hot-head gently.

"He said '_insult'_; he never said anythin' about anythin' else,"

"Insults were an example," Don pointed out meekly, "Merely chosen to illustrate his point, and as insulting someone is the most commonly used method of demeaning them and hurting them emotionally I believe Master Splinter thought that the best example. I have no doubts, however, that he meant for nothing unpleasant whatsoever to leave your mouth."

"Not gonna happen, brainiac,"

"Didn't think so,"

"So, fearless, what's eatin' ya?"

"None of your business, Raph," Leo spoke up for the first time, his voice low, indicating that he was in no mood to be messed with. That tended to be a major problem in their household, one which Donatello had chewed over many times, always coming to the same conclusion. He, personally, preferred to avoid his brothers when they were feeling more foul than fair while Michelangelo pushed them but stopped before breaking point and Leonardo tended to try and help in some way - whether or not it worked was another matter, Don reasoned, but that was beside the point. Raphael, however, pushed and pulled and heaved and hoed in every direction until the recipient of his attitude, usually Leonardo, cracked. And, if they weren't careful, that was exactly what would happen now.

"Aw, c'mon, Leonardo. Splinter always encourages us to share our feelings and ain't ya always tryin' to be Splinter Junior? This ain't the right way to go about keepin' your title, bro – your hard-earned title."

"You gave me that title, Raphael," Leonardo responded with a forced patience.

"It's stuck though; doesn't that bother ya?" Raph smirked. Realising he was getting no further responses, neither calm or confrontational, from his brother tonight, Raph let it go and left the room with a grunt. The door to the lair slammed less than a minute later. Don swiveled his chair back to face his computer, once again deep in thought. This time he came to a far more disturbing conclusion – were it not for the endless battles for their lives that they seemed to get into, he could almost call their lives predictable. Were it not for villains like Bishop, Hun and Shredder – he shuddered – their lives could almost be considered…well, boring.

-

**A/N: -** No cliffhanger this time, but next time? Well, we'll have to wait and see! hums Christmas tunes and waves I wouldn't want to spoil anything! Wishing you a very, very, very Merry Christmas…yep, you've guessed it! And A Happy New Year!


End file.
